


Caged

by 13atoms (2Atoms)



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Hurt and comfort, Kidnapping, Roleswap AU, There's like food / hunger talk so be careful of that, casting swap i guess, or like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:33:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27642169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2Atoms/pseuds/13atoms
Summary: Days after being kidnapped by Whittaker!Master and trapped aboard her TARDIS, she finally allows you to see Dhawan!Doctor again. Little does she know how much stronger you are as a pair.
Relationships: Dhawan!Doctor / Reader
Kudos: 7





	Caged

The Master groaned as you ran into The Doctor’s waiting arms.

She had finally let the two of you see one another, after days in separate cells on her TARDIS doing nothing to entertain her. You’d been confused the whole time, as she left you unharmed.

She wanted to see him suffer, and yet nothing she inflicted on him seemed to bother him. Besides his separation from you. She wanted him _broken_ , wanted him trapped and cornered and angry, snapping at her and chewing at his metaphorical bars like an animal. 

Yet it had taken her two days to realise you were the thing which would hurt him most.

She wanted revenge for what he had done to Missy, The Master had explained, her long nails tapping at the bars of your cell as she told you just what a _bastard_ the man you loved was.

You had been entirely unbothered. You knew him too well to believe anything the blonde woman claimed about him.

The Master couldn’t quite understand the bond the two of you shared, how nothing she said drove a wedge between you and The Doctor.

“Annoying,” she had snarled, her blonde hair disappearing from sight.

Your stomach had growled, as she once again left you unfed. Mere hours later she’d returned, disrupting you from the hunger-stricken daze you’d entered, and you had naively hoped that perhaps she was returning to provide you with some basic sustenance.

Instead she’d barked a rough, “Up,” to you, the TCE in her hand but not pointing at you. It was enough of a threat idle - you knew you couldn’t overpower her, nor run.

If her TARDIS was anything like The Master’s the ship was entwined enough with its pilot’s mind to prevent your escape.

When he’d marched you to The Doctor you’d braced yourself, anticipating some cruel trick. Instead she nodded to a buzzing forcefield.

“Is it safe?” you’d asked her, your voice shaking from a healthy combination of fear and hunger.

The Doctor was on the other side of the clear screen of energy, but you couldn’t hear him as he called out mutely for you. The sound was blocked.

You raised one hand to the humming forcefield, mere inches from it, fearing electrocution when a hasty heeled-shoe to the back kicked you beyond the barrier, making you fall to the ground with a short scream.

Uninjured, but a little achy, you looked up to see The Doctor. He’d jumped to his feet, his hands held out to you but unable to brace your tumble in time.

“Oh, love. Are you alright?”

You nodded silently, turning to glare over your shoulder to The Master. She gave you a strange little wave, as The Doctor held his arms open, letting you run to him and bury yourself against his soft chest.

The Doctor hummed, and you were relieved he seemed unharmed. Exhausted, stressed, in need of a shower? Yes. But not psychically hurt.

Now in his arms, you let yourself weaken a bit. Even standing up was exhausting, and your stomached ached and growled from lack of food. She hadn’t given you anything since you’d been snatched from the street on a planet you were visiting - your Time Lord taken as soon as he’d come to save you.

Letting go of The Doctor a little, you looked around for his coat, trying to spot the camel-coloured wool. The pockets were filled with snacks, along with his modest suite of toys and gadgets which helped the pair of you escape situations like this. Usually it was draped nearby - he was the worst for leaving the ship with it on and then immediately leaving it somewhere - but your heart sank as you spotted it.

Thrown on the floor, beside The Master’s impatiently tapping heel. It was the other side of the barrier you’d just been thrown through. And based on the fact The Doctor was still in this cell, you suspected it would be impossible to leave.

You tried to suppress a whimper of pain as your stomach growled, and you curved forwards subconsciously. The bathroom adjoining your cell had given you tap water to drink, but starvation was still a very real threat.

The Doctor pushed you away to arm’s length, examining you again as you winced, his eyes frantic and searching up and down your body. Suddenly his expression turned stormy.

“Have you given her food?”

The Master huffed, rolling her eyes. She was clearly projecting boredom as she watched your reunion with the impersonal interest of a scientist watching lab rats.

“She’s been here two days at _most_. I’m not running a bloody hotel.”

You tried to jut your chin out, to look resilient, but in truth the relative safety of being near The Doctor seemed to be making your body finally stop fighting.

“Humans need three meals, every twenty four hours,” The Doctor ground out.

He’d been forgetful of that, early on in your companionship, often relying on you to tell him when the pair of you had been running from things all day without stopping for a single snack.

He was near obsessive about it now. You suspected he had an alarm set. The Master raised her red lip in a snarl.

“Pathetic species. I have no idea how you’ve kept this one alive so long. Better than most of the ones you have, I suppose.”

Her words hurt, in a way her previous taunts hadn’t, and you pinned the tears swelling in your eyes on hunger-induced over-emotion. 

“Oh. Oh!”

Your eyes whipped up to meet hers, as she straightened up further, her slender neck moving as she tilted her head at you.

“I think I just cracked this,” she grinned, her smile widening as you shivered against The Master, “I knew you would be useful.”

The Doctor’s grip on you tightened. 

“Your weakness is his now, you know?” 

The idea seemed to delight her, and you tried to conceal the angry complaint of your stomach as The Doctor’s breathing grew heavier, The Master’s new plan apparently clicking even as you struggled to catch up.

“Don’t starve!” she taunted, her voice briefly possessing an eerie sing-song cadence, “or do.” 

With that, she turned on her heel.

As soon as she was out of sight The Doctor was all over you, his soft voice apologising as he let his hands trace your jaw, your arms, your waist, as if trying to find an injury he knew didn’t exist.

“I missed you,” you smiled, but even the gentle brush of your hand over his stubble-lined cheek failed to clear the frown from his face.

“I was... I was so worried.”

He had you back against his chest, both of you sliding down to the floor, you straddling his lap just to hug him closer.

You let your forehead fall to his shoulder, two days of loneliness and exhaustion compounding with your hunger to make you cling to him.

“Do you think she can hear us?” you muttered to him, your words just inches from his ear as your lips moved against the shoulder of his jumper.

“I doubt it,” he sighed, “doesn’t really matter either way.”

You sighed, feeling your body sag against his.

The Doctor’s hand moved to cradle the back of your head as you lay against him.

“How bad is it?”

“I’m just hungry. It... hurts. Sucks. But I’m fine.”

You knew how often your human fragility scared him. He _hated_ when you claimed to be fine while you were hurting, and you knew he was brimming with anger at The Master with each grumble of your stomach.

Eventually you had to let go of The Doctor, turning to the rest of the cell.

It was nicer than yours had been - more modern. Yours had been positively contemporary, likely even designed for your time period, whilst The Doctor’s room was stark white, empty aside from the twin bed pressed against one wall. There was a utilitarian en-suite, though no towels or shower seemed to be present. The softness of the sheets surprised you, you had been given a bare slab, and The Doctor must have caught you staring longingly at the chance to nap on a real mattress.

“Go to sleep, love. I’ll keep an eye out for her.”

You thanked him, pecking his cheek and stroking at his hair before accepting his help clambering off the floor. As you stripped off your shirt and jeans you saw the concern on his face, knowing he’d hate The Doctor seeing you undressed.

With a smile, you ignored his silent protest.

“I’m not sleeping in my disgusting clothes,” you told him, holding your ground until he hung his head in submission and pulled you in for another hug.

“Whatever,” he conceded, “get some rest.”

Sleep didn’t come easily, even with your exhaustion and the comfort of The Doctor’s company. The bed was comfortable. It smelled of him, as you’d climbed under the unmade covers you could briefly pretend you were at home in your shared bedroom on the TARDIS. 

Everywhere, there were reminders you weren’t at home. There was the Doctor’s worried eyes watching you, the brightness of the room beyond the pillows you sunk into, the hunger pains in your stomach. 

He was the only think easing your worries, as exhaustion eventually took over, and you slipped into a troubled sleep.

You were briefly awoken, startled, by the click of heels on the sleek flooring. It seemed visceral, but in your sleepy daze you put it down to an extension of your bad dreams - a swirl of red lipstick and blonde hair, sharp maroon nails trailing down The Doctor’s heartbroken face. 

When you woke properly, hours later, it was with a start again. 

But you were alone.

Completely alone.

The Doctor had gone, and you checked the en suite in a panic, finding him no where in the room. 

You didn’t call out. Instead you scanned your surroundings, trying to spot anything which might tell you where he’d gone.

There was an uneasy feeling in your chest as you spotted a neat pile of clothes - clean and folded with such precise corners its was strangely ominous. Atop sat a couple of energy bars - some off-earth branding you didn’t recognise, but trusted anyway as you took a bite, pacing the cell as you tried to spot some _clue_.

He must have left you something.

Surely you couldn’t have slept through it if he were taken by force.

Surely he wouldn’t have left you intentionally.

You knew all the things The Master held over him, the secrets she held and the childhood full of betrayal she symbolised to The Doctor.

As the food slowly soothed the pain in your stomach you grew more frustrated with yourself. There had to be _something._ Desperate for another angle, some strange clue, you crouched, looking down the line of the barrier which separated your half of the cell from the door.

His coat, you realised.

It was inconspicuously slightly closer to you, and you realised it was near enough to be partially across the barrier. _Kicked_ , you realised. The fabric was crumpled as if a boot has been dragged through it.

Of course The Doctor wouldn’t leave you here alone. At least, not by choice. And not without hope of escape.

You braced for some impact as you reacted for the inches of fabric, but were met with no resistance as it lit up in a trail of blue as you pulled it into the cell. 

Inside the pockets sat all the usual nonsense he carried, and your heart sank as you didn’t feel the cool metal of his sonic in his left pocket. Though, there was plenty of snack, and rather curious things you’d ask him about later.

In the right pocket, though, you found what you were looking for. Your hands closed around the cold body of the sonic, the raised edges of his solder marks settling easily in your hands.

You pulled the coat on, knowing he would loathe to lose it, and smiled to yourself as you chose the right setting to start your escape. 


End file.
